#so i don't want to spoil anyone's startlement

[canary3d-obsessed]

Director: we need to convey that our main couple 1. are proper and chaste until marriage and 2. will be absolute sex freaks for each other if the marriage ever happens

Screenwriter: I have an idea or two

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Dargon Reborn! Chapter 4: Shadows Sleeping

I'm on the very extreme end of the Kinsey scale and I'd still be down with a threesome with these two, which says a lot about my survival instinct. But this post isn't about the sexiest way to die, it's about The Wheel of Time, all fifteen books plus a variety of side content and dammit I try to spoil it all as much as possible. If that's going to be a problem, don't keep reading.

This chapter has a wolf icon because Perrin's diving straight into the wolf dream.

So you will give it up, then. It is the best thing for you. Come. Sit, and we will talk.”

Ishamael has noticed that the boys never do what he says, so he figures it's time to tell them to do the things that would be best for them so that they won't do them.

No, just kidding, that would be competent of him and he's still in crazy pants mode until he respawns. He's actually trying to cause Perrin to take up the Way of the Leaf in the hopes that in about fifteen minutes, when the Fades arrive, our boy will be too stupid to immediately reevaluate his philosophy and let the Shadow kill him.

Perrin had not realized the axe was there, had not felt the weight of it pulling at his belt. He ran a hand over the half-moon blade and the thick spike that balanced it. The steel felt—solid. More solid than anything else there. Maybe even more solid than he was himself.

All of this is a dire warning sign since we're in T'A'R, but since Perrin doesn't know that yet, we can hardly blame him for not appreciating that symbolism.

“At least have a drink with me. To years past and years to come. Here, you will see things more clearly after.” The cup the man pushed across the table had not been there a moment before. It shone bright silver, and dark, blood-red wine filled it to the brim.

While most of the Fair Folk stuff in WoT is of course covered by the Finn, I think that the stuff about eating and drinking may well be ancient memories of what dreamers can do in T'A'R.

A gilded helmet, worked like a lion’s head, sat on his head as if it belonged there. Gold leaf covered his ornately hammered breastplate, and gold-work embellished the plate and mail on his arms and legs. Only the axe at his side was plain. A voice—his own—whispered in his mind that he would take it over any other weapon, had carried it a thousand times, in a hundred battles. No! He wanted to take it off, throw it away. I can’t!

Perrin's mistake is in thinking his situation is such that it's only a dream. I'm pretty sure it's Lanfear he's hearing, not himself, and that Lanfear has no more knowledge of Perrin's other lives than anyone else.

“Yes,” he whispered. Inside him, startlement fought with acceptance. He had no use for glory. But when she said it, he wanted nothing else.

Let the record show: When Perrin laments that Rand is better at girls than he is, the fact that Rand doesn't immediately turn into a glory hound at Lanfear's demand proves Perrin right. The jury is still out on where Mat fits into the rankings.

“You don’t know the half of what you are. Of what you can be. Come, share a cup with me, to destiny and glory.” There was a shining silver cup in her hand, filled with blood-red wine. “Drink.”

Pretty rare to see Ishamael and Lanfear on the same page. I'm not sure if she's only accidentally mimicking him or if they're working together for the same general purpose of pulling Perrin away from Rand (Mat, being further away and tainted besides, needs no special attention). Obviously even if they're working together Lanfear wants to screw over Ishamael as soon as possible, it's her nature.

Everywhere he looked, left and right, up or down, were more bridges, more spires, and railless ramps. There seemed no end to them, no pattern. Worse, some of those ramps climbed to spire tops that had to be directly above the ones they had left.

Some suggest that this is either the Ways in T'A'R or a memory thereof, but I think it's just convergent evolution and that Lanfear's gone to a dream shard the Forsaken made, unaware that Perrin's got the skills to follow her through.

On a bridge slightly below him, and much closer than the ramp where the woman had been, a man suddenly appeared, tall and dark and slender, the silver in his black hair giving him a distinguished look, his dark green coat thickly embroidered with golden leaves.

This is Rahvin, for the record.

Another man started across the bridge from the other side, his appearance as sudden as the first man’s. Black stripes ran down the puffy sleeves of his red coat, and pale lace hung thick at his collar and cuffs.

And Be'lal.

The first two men stood side by side, now, made uncomfortable allies by the presence of the newcomer. He shouted at them and shook his fist, while they shifted uneasily, refusing to meet his glares. If the two hated each other, they feared him more.

Considering Rahvin's raw strength and Be'lal's skills at subterfuge, their abject terror of Ishamael is pretty interesting. Are they only afraid of the modern him, stark raving mad from centuries of isolation, or was this how they would have responded to him in the Age of Legends as well?

A prickling in the hair on the back of his neck made him look up. On a ramp above him and to the right, a shaggy gray wolf stood looking at him.

Naturally this freaks Perrin the fuck out even though it's likely that the only reason he didn't die in the fireball Ishamael made was that the wolves "just a weave"-d it.

(Also: Hi Hopper! Who's a good boy?)

A sword, hanging hilt down in the air, apparently without support, seemingly where anyone could reach out and take it. It revolved slowly, as if some breath of air caught it. Yet it was not really a sword.

I beg you to remember that Callandor, no matter how many times Rand misuses it along the way, is not a weapon. It's not really a sword. It's a trap.

Callandor. Who wields me wields destiny. Take me, and begin the final journey.

Is Callandor just calling to anyone who can find it in T'A'R? Is it programmed to respond to ta'veren who find it there enough times because no one foresaw Mat and Perrin's existence? Of course not. Perrin is now pushing his way into a dream meant for Rand, same way he pushed his way into that private conversation. No wonder our other boy is so impatient, putting up with months of manipulation by the shadow.

The thought was clear in his head, but the thought was not his own. The Twisted Ones come, brother.

And of course, the Shadow descends to cause chaos while it's trying to keep Rand busy, to maximize his despair, and immediately after trying to get Perrin to become a pacifist, to minimize his response against them.

Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), they have no idea how to talk to Third Agers so none of their schemes fully work out.

Next time: The Twisted Ones!